


Ready, Set, Go

by charmandhex



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmandhex/pseuds/charmandhex
Summary: Sloane has been successfully evading the Goldcliff militia for months, and mostly successfully flirting with one of the detectives along the way. This time, Sloane thinks she’s made the perfect getaway, only to find herself found out. But since Sloane has never been one to give up that easily, she’s got a plan and a partnership for Detective Hurley.
Relationships: Hurley/Sloane (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43





	Ready, Set, Go

**Author's Note:**

> I do not consent to having my work hosted on any unofficial apps, particularly those with ad revenue or subscription services.

Sloane breathes a sigh as she turns the final corner. Not of relief, mind you. There’s no reason for relief at finding herself free and clear if there was never any risk of her being caught to begin with. And Sloane would _never_ let herself get caught. She’d never even let herself get close. Even if that halfling lieutenant has gotten just a _little_ closer to catching her than Sloane might like. But hey, it’s all part of the fun, all part of the game of cat and mouse, of raven and… okay, Sloane has no idea there. But anyway, Sloane can’t exactly flirt with and fluster the only cute detective on Goldcliff’s payroll if she keeps the other woman at a distance, now can she?

Sloane darts across the street, stepping under an overhang where the shadows are just a little deeper, courtesy of a broken streetlamp (and a rock Sloane had thrown months earlier). And then she steps into the garage. Her garage. Her sanctuary, the safest place she knows, a place for Sloane alone.

Sloane turns on the light.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Sloane’s heart nearly takes flight out of her chest as the lieutenant steps out from behind a carefully covered battlewagon. The monk crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow, with a smug smile playing about her lips. Sloane is supposed to be the one with a smug smile playing about her lips! She’d joked just last week about the other woman having to kiss it off her to get rid of it!

“Ah. Um. Ahem.” Sloane says, her usual eloquence for the moment misplaced.

“I bet you’re wondering how I found you here,” the other woman says proudly, gesturing at the garage at large. “It was actually pretty easy. I’m a really good cop, you know. I-”

Sloane finds her voice. “Actually, I was wondering what your name is. It seems to me we know each other well enough that I should be able to call you something besides nicknames. Unless that’s what you’d prefer, beautiful?”

As expected, the monk’s face turns pinker than her hair. “You- ah- are- shit- under- shit- arrest- SHIT.” The lieutenant buries her face in her hands. She mumbles something, the words muffled by her hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t get that.”

The detective jerks her still very pink face out of her hands to glare at Sloane. If Sloane didn’t know any better, she might be intimidated. But as it stands, with more than a dozen interactions with the detective to date, Sloane has to hide a laugh. “Why would you say that? I’m trying to arrest you here!”

Sloane hums before giving a shrug and striding forward, making no effort to hide the bag she drops on her worktable. The stolen coins clink against each other at the collision. “Name’s Sloane,” Sloane says as she spins around, facing the monk once more.

For her part, the detective blinks. “Are you… are you _sure_ you want to introduce yourself to the person arresting you?” She asks, somewhere between bewildered and concerned.

“Call it a gamble,” Sloane says, tilting her head to the side, bird-like, before she pulls off the mask as well, making sure to give her hair a toss as she does. Gratifyingly, the halfling woman turns even pinker than she had before. “I don’t think you’re going to arrest me tonight.”

“Uh-huh. Why? Are you- shit, do you think you’re going to _persuade_ me out of arresting you? ‘Cause that’s not happening, no way, ma’am.”

“Oh, but I have naturally high charisma. Wouldn’t you agree?”

And face back into her hands. She murmurs something else, this even quieter and near inaudible behind the shield she’s set for herself.

“Again, didn’t quite catch that.”

“Hurley. My name is Hurley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hurley.” Sloane takes a step forward and extends a hand to the other woman. Hurley peaks out from behind her hands before sighing, taking Sloane’s hand in her own.

“Don’t get it twisted. I’m still arresting you. Yep. Definitely, definitely still arresting you. Because I am a cop. I’m a good cop.”

“Right. That’s why you haven’t let go of my hand.” Sloane teases gently. “You’re just waiting to get the cuffs on me.”

Hurley drops her hand like it’s on fire. To be entirely fair, Sloane’s own hand seems to be burning where Hurley had held it.

“No! I mean- listen, it’s not just- you’re just- I’m just- _shit_.” Hurley slumps against the side of the covered battlewagon, eyeing Sloane wearily. “You’re a battlewagon racer.”

Sloane blinks. That was… unexpected. Almost as unexpected as finding Hurley in her garage to begin with. But wait. Wait a second. Sloane might just be able to roll this to her advantage. “Yeah. Yes. Yes, I am. The Raven, master thief and master battlewagon racer, at your service.” Sloane says with a graceful flourish.

Hurley pushes off the battlewagon. She opens her mouth, and it’s like a dam bursts. “You have one of the best records out of all the regular racers, regardless of who you’re racing with or against. You’ve only placed below fifth once, and you’ve _never_ had a serious crash in your battlewagon. And that, that thing you did two weeks ago, with, with the whip and how you knocked a boarder off while still driving! That was- that was _amazing_.” Hurley takes a breath.

“It’s always nice to meet a fan.” Sloane grins, watching closely. “You like battlewagon racing, Hurley?”

Hurley breathes out again, a small, quiet sound. “I love it,” she admits softly. But then she seems to remember something, straightening up and squaring her shoulders. She meets Sloane’s even gaze squarely as she says, “But it is _illegal_ , and I am a member of the Goldcliff militia.”

Sloane is unperturbed, offering an easy smile as she says, “Most fun things are.”

“No, most fun things are not- _illegal_ \- just, just _that_ fun thing. So, here, I’ll arrest you now, and we’ll add that to your list of crimes, and we’ll be on our way-”

“Do you want to try it?”

“Try… try it?”

“Try battlewagon racing.” Sloane pauses. “With me.”

“Try battlewagon racing… with you.”

“You know, repeating what I’m saying back to me isn’t really an answer.” Sloane leans down, her face close to Hurley’s, lowering her voice as she says, “C’mon, Hurls, just one race. If you don’t fall completely in love…” Sloane pauses, and Hurley takes in a breath. “If you don’t fall completely in love with racing, _then_ you can arrest me.”

Hurley nearly squeaks. “I… I…”

Sloane takes a step back. “Really, Hurley, you should take the deal. I mean, you could still _try_ to arrest me now, but we both know I could run and escape easily. But if you try racing and decide it’s not for you, then I’ll come quietly. If you _really_ want to arrest me, you’ll know that’s the best option.”

“I’ll do it.” Hurley’s voice comes out in a rush, seeming to surprise even her. “Shit! But only, but only in the pursuit of justice, you know.”

“Naturally,” Sloane says. Her mouth quirks into a grin. “Then let’s get started.”

“Started? Now?” Hurley looks around, confused. “It’s the middle of the night! And the next race isn’t for another week!”

Sloane gives a mock gasp of shock. “Lieutenant Hurley! Now whyever would you know when the next illegal battlewagon race is taking place?”

Hurley sighs. “All right, what did you have in mind, Sloane?”

Sloane’s grin returns. “Lesson One. You know about racing. But what do you know about battlewagons?” She asks as she grandly whips the cover off her battlewagon. From the duly impressed look in Hurley’s eyes and the tentative way she reaches out to carefully touch the battlewagon, the answer to Sloane’s question is a lot. “Excellent. Let’s get started.”

And the two do just that, Hurley getting acquainted with the battlewagon and all its various trappings. Sloane makes a mental note they’ll have to meet up again to take the battlewagon out for a spin (not because she needs more time to convince Hurley not to arrest her, just to make sure the other woman is a competent driver of course). And the two spend time getting more acquainted with each other. After all, flirting and playful banter tossed onto the wind over the streets of Goldcliff is fun, but really not the best way to get to know someone. And Sloane would dearly love to really get to know Hurley.

Sometime later, the two are sitting, leaning back from a schematic they’ve been poring over. Sloane looks over to Hurley, clearly tired after a long day and a longer night but still with a determined sparkle in her eye.

“I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Hurley asks around a yawn as she stretches, the monk’s motions fluid and graceful.

Sloane leans forward, resting a hand on Hurley’s forearm. Must be some weird monk thing, a distant part of her thinks, the way touching Hurley’s skin seems to set her own ablaze. “What your mask should be of course.”

“And what would that be?” Hurley looks at Sloane skeptically. Sloane retreats, but she is in no way defeated.

“Ram.” Sloane declares proudly.

“A ram?” Hurley’s skepticism only deepens. Clearly she’ll require a great deal of convincing. Luckily, as they’ve seen so far, Sloane is more than equal to the task.

Sloane carefully reaches forward, as carefully as Hurley had reached out to the battlewagon at first, watching Hurley’s reaction as she does. When she sees only amusement with a touch of surprise and the first hint of fondness, she lightly taps Hurley on the nose. “Ram, definitely.”

“Okay, why?”

“You’re stubborn.”

“You really know how to flatter a woman.” Hurley throws her head back and laughs, and Sloane watches, even more delightedly satisfied in making Hurley laugh than in making her blush.

“You’re stubborn. You’re the only one out of that whole damn department who could have ever caught me. You’re the only one who ever came close, and you did that several times over. And you actually found me. And to top it all off, for me, at least, you’re clearly going to be a wonderful partner. You learned _everything_ about battlewagon racing despite the questionable-”

“Entirely illegal.”

“The questionable legality of the sport.” Sloane finishes, ignoring Hurley’s amused interruption. “You’re fierce and strong, and you keep fighting. You’re a ram. My ram.”

Hurley smiles, now leaning over to Sloane, her face close to Sloane’s. “In that case, I know why you’re the Raven, Sloane,” She says slowly, her voice like warm honey, her hand reaching out to run her fingers through Sloane’s hair, hanging loose like a curtain around them.

“You do?” Surely, surely, that wasn’t Sloane’s heart skipping a beat. She lets out the smallest of coughs. “So, ah, because I’m proud, beautiful, and incredibly smart?”

Hurley leans even closer and whispers directly in her ear. “It’s because you like stealing shiny things.”

Sloane jerks backward, staring at Hurley in shock as the other woman starts laughing uproariously. After a moment, Sloane’s lips curve into a smile, and she joins Hurley in filling the garage with laughter that sweeps over every surface, much like the dawn light now peaking in through the windows.

Their laughter gradually dies down, and it’s then that Hurley finally seems to realize the hour.

“Oh, oh shit! I have to get to work!” Hurley jumps up. Sloane rises more slowly, and Hurley looks at her. “I’ll… I’ll be back later? If later is good? To- just to practice driving? Not to arrest you, no, I’m a woman of my word, and I’m not going to arrest you until after the race!”

As she had done earlier in the evening, Sloane extends a hand out to Hurley, which she takes. And as earlier, Sloane feels a warmth like fire in her hand. A smile spreads across her face.

“Lieutenant Hurley, I think we’re going to be wonderful partners.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> I saw the preview of the Petals to the Metal graphic novel, and yeah, next thing I knew, I had a first draft. Sloane and Hurley look beautiful, and I love them. So, here they are, flirting extensively in all their glory.
> 
> As always, kudos and comment to feed your local lich, and subscribe, head to my works page, or go to [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com/) for more content!


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